


Stolen Season

by BoughtMyWayIntoPopCulture



Series: Rolling in the Deep [3]
Category: City of Love: Paris (Visual Novel)
Genre: Desk Sex, Established Relationship, F/M, Gratuitous Smut, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Outtakes for between Chapter 41 and 42, Pool Table Sex, RITD-Compliant, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Smut, They have literally been apart for two years they need to get this out of their system
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:13:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24118558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoughtMyWayIntoPopCulture/pseuds/BoughtMyWayIntoPopCulture
Summary: In which Vincent and Sophia make up for lost time.
Relationships: Vincent Karm/Original Character(s)
Series: Rolling in the Deep [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1777750
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	1. As Long As I

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Rolling in the Deep](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14046030) by [BoughtMyWayIntoPopCulture](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoughtMyWayIntoPopCulture/pseuds/BoughtMyWayIntoPopCulture). 



> This series of short pieces takes place between chapters 41 and 42 of Rolling in the Deep over the course of a night and a day. All NSFW.

“I just want you and whatever that entails for the rest of the years I have on this planet.”

For her, it was enough to still the worry in her heart that had been there since that morning. Which was actually almost yesterday, last she knew. It was enough to quell the feelings she had shoved deep down that refused to stay there. Some of the tension in her body finally left and she took a tiny step back, pressing herself into him.

She was never quite sure if they were making up for lost moments or simply starved for anything other than conversation and heavy gazes. The carnal need for human touch and connection hadn’t bothered her much—after all, she’d spent much of her time in Paris too busy to think about it, and life in New York seemed so long ago—but for the past two days, they were properly alone for the first time in two years and she felt absolutely consumed, dare she think even betrayed, by her own desire.

In response, Vincent adjusted his hold on the pool cue, using it to keep her against him, her back to his chest, his breath tickling the loose hairs at the nape of her neck. Sophia swallowed when her hips were pressed against the side of the table, just enough to give a suggestion, one her body was already more than thrilled to agree to. The layers of her dress made it difficult but not impossible to feel that he, too, had something different in mind than finishing the game.

“But right now, I want you as many times as possible,” Vincent whispered, his words sending jolts down her spine.

“Opportunist,” Sophia breathed, moving her hips as much as her position allowed.

“Always.”

He pulled away the stick, resting it silently against the table before returning his hands to her. His lips found the curve of her neck as one hand sought to undo her hair, the other tracing her collarbone and the top of her dress. A small sound escaped her as the third and final pin fell to the floor and Vincent’s fingers massaged the places where she had pulled her hair too tight. If he kept that up, she was going to fall asleep before they properly started…

The hand teasing her chest dipped lower to touch the tender flesh beneath, following the curve of each breast. She shivered against him, the touch almost feather-light, tantalizing, until Vincent’s hands left her skin to trail down the length of her torso, stopping at her waist. He turned Sophia in place, their lips finding one anothers, each predicting the other’s action and responding accordingly. It was like riding a bike, neither truly forgetting how the other reacted, but not without the constant charge, the exhilaration of what kept bringing them back to one another. 

Soft sounds escaped both of them, feeling louder than they were, the cavernous space capturing every moan, every whimper, turning their intentions back on them. A deep ache settled between her legs and she attempted to press herself against him more, as if it was possible to be closer to him in this state of dress. 

With a frustrated groan, Vincent reached down to grab her thighs, the layers of the dress rustling in the yawning silence as he lifted her and placed her atop the felt surface of the table. Sophia crawled back when she realized Vincent intended to use, not the edge of the table, but the full surface, the felt rough against her hands and elbows as she gave him room to climb onto the table. She nudged what pool balls were still in play, hands reaching blindly as she was once against consumed by a kiss that never seemed to end.

It wasn’t the most comfortable surface, she admitted, but there was something thrilling about the hard table beneath her and the lack of space between her and Vincent, although he was careful never to put his full weight on her. It made what little air she needed in between kisses feel all the more precious. She raked her hands through his hair, uncaring at the mess she made in her search to grasp onto something, to touch a part of him that wasn’t covered in clothing.

Vincent’s hands pushed up her skirt, no longer caring whether the fabric wrinkled or the tulle split, searching for her bare legs. Sophia reached for his belt, making quick work of the fastenings as his deft fingers pulled aside the fabric covering her heat and touched her sensitive flesh, a gasp escaping them both. The previous night and morning only served as a reminder of what she’d missed and now it felt as if there was a need that would never be satisfied, no matter how many times they…

Her mind went blank as he adjusted, brushing his tip against the incredibly sensitive spot at the apex of her thighs and sending a shockwave through her body. Over and over, as if she wasn’t aching enough, wet enough...

“Eager, are we?” Vincent breathed against her lips before capturing the last of the air she managed to push into her lungs. “I never tire of seeing you like this…undone, desire laid bare. Seeing you give in to what you  _ want _ .”

His last word caught in his throat when she adjusted her hips, wrapped her legs around him for leverage, and slid herself onto him, only far enough to elicit a groan she felt from deep within his chest.

“I never hide it,” she replied, lips brushing his with every word.

“But only I get to see it,” Vincent elaborated, less a statement of possession than a simple fact.

A sigh of satisfaction escaped him as he entered her further, filling her, whatever composure she still had now utterly lost. She clenched around him, feeling complete and whole, unable to focus on anything except the deep pressure sitting low, embers in need of further stoking. 

“And it is  _ glorious _ ,” he whispered, his tone reverent as marveled eyes roamed her face, searching for every trace of her passion.

Their pace was slow, each trust and stroke meant to savor the sensations but never satisfy. He withdrew from her entirely and it felt like an eternity until he was buried deep inside her again. Every time, it felt as if she was getting barely a taste of what laid in wait, what both of them were deprived of for two long years. Their moments together yesterday and earlier that morning only seemed to make her crave more and more, and if he didn’t go faster…

Sophia lowered one leg so it rested against Vincent’s as her other trailed down to settle at the apex of his thigh as he thrust in, keeping him from continuing their previous rhythm. He inhaled sharply, although whether from the sudden shift or from the spasm inside her, she couldn’t quite tell, before a low groan escaped him. 

It was an exquisite sound that tugged at her core, one she would never tire of. One she wanted more of.

Their lips met again, tongues teasing one another’s in a pace not unlike the one the rest of their bodies followed. Without breaking their kiss or their coupling, Sophia shifted her hips on her down stroke and flipped them over, the rustling of her skirt almost drowning out the gasp from the man now beneath her. She pulled away and rolled her hips once; somehow Vincent’s eyes grew wider as he stared up at her, momentarily in shock. He twitched inside her when she sank low. A moan left both of their lips, a chorus of pleasure that echoed in the vast room.

She unraveled quickly, breath hitching and feeling as if someone filled her veins with gasoline and lit a match, every bit of her alight with fiery want, consumed with the way every limb tingled and spasmed when he brushed  _ right _ there…

A soft whine became a throaty cry and it took her a second to recognize it was coming from  _ her _ . The pressure was overwhelming and somehow her body begged for more and for nothing all at once. Vincent’s hands, previously cupping her head and keeping her hair out of both of their faces, found their way under the layers of her skirts to grasp her hips, keeping her at a constant peak as her walls clenched. The brief smirk that crossed his face faltered as he twitched again, joining her in ecstasy with a choked groan. 

Not only was his expression absolutely unguarded but his hair was a mess she couldn’t help but be proud of. She’d even managed to get a few of the locks to stick straight up, the trails her fingers took blatant and impossible to ignore.

“You’re right,” Sophia whispered, “it  _ is  _ glorious.”


	2. Can Have You By My Side

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, this was intended to be three pieces, but the more I worked on it, the more apparent it became that two worked far better.
> 
> Still exactly what it was meant to be: gratuitous and explicit but also flowing right into Chapter 42. Enjoy! ;)

“Envy doesn’t suit you, Sophia.”

The words hit harder than he likely intended, ringing true at a deep part of her that wrangled for not only trust but for control. That phone call was _why_ Vincent had intended to break out of prison all along and it was a necessary part of the plan. But that didn’t mean she wanted their evening to be interrupted, broken. Every time they reached something resembling what they had before, it seemed to fall through their hands like sand.

Vincent held out a hand, silently beckoning her to him. The scene was strange, him sitting in a replica of his office, his hand open and awaiting her own. It clashed with almost every experience she’d had in his actual office, save a rare few that made her knees tremble as she felt the plush area rug beneath her feet. 

Sophia crossed the room and placed her hand in his, only for it to be raised to his lips almost immediately, as though he, too, needed to rid his mind of the knowledge that their evening was now almost spoiled. 

“Sometimes I think of what might have transpired that night, at the exhibition,” Vincent said against her skin, “Without the Essence business.”

As his free hand ran feather-light grazes over her bare arms and the shape of her body, she recalled the events of that night, her ankle throbbing at the memory of traipsing over bones of the dead in thin flats and a cocktail dress. Of using Eugene to keep herself up, Vincent’s eyes catching hers, a whisper that he had everyone he wanted. 

She would never admit to anyone the dirty thoughts that lingered from that night despite the anger and miscommunication that followed. There was something utterly raw about the events that transpired once they left the venue; his admission in the car that she was with him because he _wanted_ her there. And then again after he one-upped the journalist, calling her out on her poor seductive performance. In hindsight, knowing him the way she did now, there was a need he didn’t want to recognize that night. They’d spent so many weeks working together in close proximity that _not_ having her present would have been alien. 

He rose in a smooth fluid motion to continue the gentle kisses up her arm, the sheer sleeve of the dress doing nothing to hide the heat from his breath or prevent the shivers she felt from his touches. Her nipples were already hard by the time a finger grazed across her breast, tracing its shape before continuing on. He was dressed, a necessity for the time being (should he need to leave at any moment before police arrived), but it only made her more aware of her own body and its response to him.

“I had suspicions of my feelings and I had intentions of using that night for a very different purpose.”

Underneath the hint, Sophia caught a stab of bitterness, sharp as a tack; over before she knew it but it was impossible to miss. The excitement of the possibility mixed with her own annoyance over that evening, frustration lapping at her heart, eager waves of longing for resolution that hadn’t come from a contract and an invitation to dinner. 

She shuddered when his lips reached the base of her neck, breath tickling her skin. Their bodies weren’t yet touching, although it was impossible to ignore the warmth coming from him, urging her to lean in.

“And what exactly did you plan?”

They were the first words she’d spoken since waking, curiosity running through her mind and elsewhere. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t considered the possibility of outcomes had she never uncovered the Essence rumors by accident and given him his next obsession. She _had_ wondered, especially in the first few months of his sentence when her mind ran rampant with what she could have done differently, how even the slightest change might have resulted in a very different present scenario.

“Once things began to die down, I was going to suggest a late dinner to celebrate what would have been, as expected, a very successful opening night,” Vincent began. “Afterwards, we would make a stop at my office, some excuse of wanting clarification on something. Having spent hours in front of others, I would have wanted you alone, to appreciate your candor, share the secrets that come with watching and listening to others’ criticism…”

Her body filled in the blanks on the details he didn’t fill in for her as she remembered the time before, when the air between them seemed heady with something unspoken, tension neither of them felt strong enough to break. Dinner would have been a disarming affair, a chance for her to relax on one hand but her desire to pool and linger. The moments alone they had together left her heart aching when he left, a void she didn’t know needed filling making itself known.

She could imagine following him to his office, not entirely sure what he wanted details on. Back then, his office was his lair, the lion’s den, and she only survived it because he let her, because of how he handled her.

One of Vincent’s hands went to her back, fingertips touching her just so, coaxing another shiver out of her spine. Her arm was draped over his shoulder now, her fingers dancing along his shirt collar, hovering and waiting for the right moment to graze upwards into his hair. She was brought back to the present with a deep ache in her core, longing for the minuscule distance between them to vanish, for him to kiss her.

“And then…?” Sophia murmured, shifting her weight in a desperate effort to keep herself from squeezing her thighs together.

Vincent hummed in thought as he pulled away from her neck, his gaze hovering around her lips. She felt the soft laugh more than she heard it; he was running the scenario through in his head, comparing that with the scene unfolding before him. He was less amused and more amazed. He knew how to read people but she would always be an open book to him.

“I would ask you to close your eyes.”

When she didn’t, he ran the hand previously occupied with her arm down and teased a nipple and then went lower, past her belly button to stroke her once. The finger hovered, a silent threat that she would get no more until she complied.

She obeyed, closing her eyes as he asked. She stood still and tried to listen, but her pulse was racing in her ears. She could feel the gentle press of heat against her, only tempered by the sheer lace and the fine fabric of his suit. Breathing became harder and she fought to control her breaths, drawing deeper to calm the seemingly insatiable pulse between her legs.

Was this what he meant the other night, about senses and enhancing experiences? Other senses compensating for those lacking and in turn, making the _idea_ , the _possibilities_ , that much more alluring…

Vincent’s lips grazed hers once, then twice, before something gave way and the kiss became far fiercer than she anticipated. Her head spun, but perhaps that was actually more than just her head, judging by the firm wood behind her. Sophia found herself pressed between the desk and his hips, her walls clenching in need as his hands made quick work of parting the dress and found her bare thighs.

She reached for his belt, hands working by feel alone as she felt, quite literally, consumed. It was as though he was coaxing her very soul to the surface, bringing her own urges to sit just below her skin, leaving her no choice but to give in.

For a moment, she could feel as though they were, in fact, alone in his office proper. She would have given in that night, tired from the pretense she’d endured for almost two years. 

Vincent lifted her onto the surface of the desk, their hips perfectly aligned, her toes grazing the soft carpet. As if to further drive them both mad, she rolled her hips against his, his words trailing off into a throaty gasp at the feel of skin on skin, the sensation of _almost_ jolting from her sensitive flesh through the rest of her. She did it again, a silent plea as she attempted to angle her hips, the only sound between them the slick sound of her arousal.

He entered her without further coaxing, both hands grasping her hips as they adjusted to the sudden sensation. He withdrew almost entirely, his hands trailing down to her thighs to lift her legs, giving him the leverage to enter her deeper. The few coherent thoughts she had seemed to tangle themselves as she focused on their rhythm, on how sharp the emptiness felt when he withdrew entirely and how every thrust was in time with the pulsing of her core, the familiar low heat growing in her lower belly as her walls twitched in need of release.

In her desperation, she bucked her hips, only to be caught just in time as she slipped off the desk. One of his hands held her leg, hips pinned together to keep her from falling further as his other hand held her torso. 

“For someone so cautious, you end up in very precarious situations,” Vincent whispered, shifting her slightly, Sophia putting her arms around his neck as they moved to the previously-abandoned chair. The smile that formed across her lips was impossible to fight, even though the deep and addicting kisses they never quite seemed to break entirely.

The chair was large enough for both of them, barely, and Sophia settled into his lap, Vincent’s hands on her back, keeping their chests pressed together. Other than keeping her steady, he was leaving the pace up to her to determine. A low groan that sounded more akin to a growl rumbled as she raised herself just enough to keep him inside, teasing the most sensitive part of him as a fire pooled deep inside her. There were no other protests, no warnings, no attempts to wrestle control away from her. She lost herself in the driving need for more and it only took a few deep strokes before she felt a hand reach between them and put a delicious amount of pressure on her clit until she trembled, her pace erratic as she clenched around him, their sounds mingling as her climax spurred his. 

The hand on her lower back kept her in place as they came down from their mutual peak, silence enveloping them. Sophia brushed her nose against his, melting into the embrace, all thoughts of the phone conversation earlier forgotten. 

Until the phone on the desk gave a loud and startling buzz that caused both of them to jump ever so slightly. Vincent’s eyes narrowed as he gazed at the screen and she fought the urge to reach for it so he could see properly. There was only one person who would text him and only for one reason. Eugene, ever ahead of the needs of the one he served, giving them ample warning.

Vincent gave a thoughtful hum before burying his face into her neck. She, in turn, relaxed again. If their evening was going to be ruined, they both deserved five more minutes of each other.


End file.
